


Snippets Collection

by A_Nameless_Reader



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Giant Space Flea From Nowhere, Real Physics meet Not Real Physics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Nameless_Reader/pseuds/A_Nameless_Reader
Summary: Various shorts that won't become full fics. Mostly Worm-centric. Specifics in chapter descriptions.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Snippets Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning to use this to get rid of all the little plot bunnies in my head. For now, enjoy this!
> 
> Comedy One-Shot
> 
> Worm/Katamari Damacy

The Warrior’s species had existed for immemorial eons. In that time they had seen many things, done many things, created and destroyed many things. 

In all that time they had never met their equal, however. Oh, certainly there were species out there who fought them, wounded them, sometimes even killed them. But none had ever matched them in knowledge, in power, in enormity. 

  
They were not all powerful, but they were the undisputed masters of the cosmos. When the day came that the Solution was discovered, when their species once again gathered in congress and spread their collected wisdom, birthing their next generation, they would exist in perfection. Already the knew almost everything. 

As such, the Warrior knew that there were certain things that were absolutely impossible. 

That didn’t change the fact that the Warrior watched every star it could detect within range wink out, one by one, almost simultaneously.  
  
It was impossible, it knew. Or rather so improbable the end was the same. The light reaching its senses came from stars lightyears apart, such great distances that the light was old by the time it reached it. For all of them to disappear in such proximity meant something or somethings had coordinated it, across ages and distances, destroying the stars in such a way that they would appear to die at the same time from it’s vantage point. 

A great cadre of its species could accomplish such a thing, if they were so inclined, but why? Assembling in such numbers as not seen since their diaspora, destroying such sources of energy and hosts, for what?  
  


Could it be a message? A signal to gather? A threat? A promise, a warning, a-

_what the fuck is that_

There was some _thing_ heading _right towards it_. 

It was enormous, as big as the Warrior itself. However, unlike the elegant crystal and spiraling duality of itself, it was _humanoid_ , bipedal, shaped almost identically to this cycle’s host species.

_It was also gaining speed._

Drawing itself out of it’s stupor, the Warrior let it’s Avatar hang limply in the air. It gathered it’s defenses and weapons, that, while diminished, still were honed over countless cycles of violence. 

A lance of golden light beamed forth, past the eighth planet in the system its main body dwelled in. Great spikes of metal, alchemized and fused under pressures that did not occur naturally were called forth, and quickly the remnants of its Sting empowered them. Great fields of force and interdimensional energy coursed forth and covered it, even as swathes of crystal-flesh plains shifted to cover its core components.

It watched as the beam tore through space, a direct course for the opponent-

A last minute swerve, almost lazily, in a way it had not predicted, in neither three nor four dimensional space. 

The Warrior froze, even as subroutines began plotting a next volley. The movement had registered in one of it’s human body categorization shards. 

Was- was it _drunk?_

It had stalled too long - it was upon it - it smelled like ethanol - _oh shit_ -

* * *

Emily Piggot sighed - contentedly, for once. There had been a notable absence of crime in the Bay as of late, both Parahuman and baseline. 

Things had been horrific, only a month ago. Scion’s sudden disappearance in the middle of stopping a forest fire in the Amazon had sent ripples of confusion and fear cascading across the world. The fact that the _fucking stars and moon had disappeared_ was just the icing on the cake. Things had been quiet for a day, like the calm before the storm, before all hell broke loose.

All things considered, the odds of actually ever meeting Scion, let alone being saved or stopped by him, were astronomical. But he represented an unbeatable figure, that, while far from actually being a deterrent to crime, did provide a kind of safety net to the powerless.

As it turns out, taking away that safety net meant riots. Lots and lots of riots.

The PRT and law enforcement had their hands full maintaining some semblance of order, and the less said about worlds issues the better. The only saving grace was that _something_ had kept the tides coming and going. Who knows how things would have played out if the events of one week after Scion’s disappearance hadn’t happened?

Of course, thought Emily Piggot with an internal groan, those events would have _had_ to have happened in Brockton Bay.

* * *

The Boardwalks were emptier than they would have otherwise been at any given time. It was disconcerting, Michael thought. Michael had been an enforcer for the Boardwalk since high school, weightlifting in Winslow meaning he looked the part from the start, even if he’d never actually thrown a punch, 

Six years, fifty-eight attempted robberies, and one memorable occasion involving Krieg, Oni Lee, and an industrial sized tub of grease from Fugly Bobs later, Michael could no longer claim that. What he could claim, however, was mild alcoholism and a keen eye for weird shit. So when a rainbow descended into a nearby alley from on high, he went to investigate, silently hoping he was just hung over and not about to face another cape.

Stepping into the alley, he scanned his surroundings for anything out of ordinary, tense and ready to fight or flee. However, after a quick glance provided nothing strange, he began searching more intently. This, fortunately or unfortunately, meant he caught a glimpse of a strange, lumpy ball zooming out of the alley, occasionally running into litter or gravel and, with a strange attraction, collecting them like flies on a glue trap.

It was, in all honesty, _not_ the weirdest thing Michael had seen, not even in the top five. It _was_ , however, enough for him to radio in (something that, in hindsight, he should have done before walking into the alley, but screw it, he was still alive) and give chase, calling for the ball to stop and turn itself in.

  
The damn thing was _fast_ , though, and every so often would pause for a second and then rocket off, leaving him in the dust. He lost track of it by the time his backup arrived, and with an inward groan debated whether or not he could file the coming paperwork drunk. 

Unfortunately for Michael, however, he was only even beginning to get buzzed, ten minutes later, when the crew station building was ripped up from the ground by its foundations and rolled away, with him following not long after.

* * *

Battery stared with blank eyes from Captain’s Hill as a fucking _enormous_ ball rolled up the Medhall Building, ignoring the various beams of Parahuman power, great telekinetic barrages, and barriers of steel, plasma, and some unknown green energy that made her see things in the corner of her eyes.

It had been declared an S-Class threat five minutes after it ate its first building, and an Endbringer classification would have already been declared if it wasn’t for the fact that there was, apparently, not a _single_ fatality so far. 

That was, arguably, the worst part. Legend had been the first of the Triumvirate to arrive, and one of the first defenders to arrive, period. He’d seen things no one else had, from the tiny spherical core at the dead center of the ball, to the still living and flailing people trapped inside buildings or beneath them, and most of all the tiny green humanoid at the base of the ball controlling its travel. 

That’d changed the game, at least at first. They’d directed attacks towards it, and it seemed to work for a few moments. The ball stopped, the creature was stunned, and she felt a faint hope before pieces of the ball were flung off at wild angles. Alexandria managed to fly underneath some of the debris and let them a few hit the ground softly, and Eidolon extended great arms that flickered with a blue light to catch more, but even still Battery had expected to see crushed bodies underneath homes and stores. 

Instead the pieces … _jiggled_ , and _despite_ every basic law of physics telling them to collapse into so much debris, they remained whole, like someone had just _decided_ to build them horizontally instead of vertically

A few S&R teams later, it was confirmed that everyone inside those buildings had survived their ejection. 

Looking back, Battery wondered if that had really been worth what came next.

Alexandria launched herself at the ball and made to lift off with it, get the people to safety and leave them free to wail on the controller. Instead, she just kind of … got stuck.

Things devolved from there.

Strikers, most Brutes, some Changers and Breakers, and one rather unfortunate Trump all got dropped off by Strider to discover that they were, for all intents and purposes, dead weight in the fight. A couple tried to help with evacuation only to get rolled up when the ball doubled back to collect it’s lost earnings. 

She herself had been sidelined early on when a flying piece of rubble had crushed her leg, and by the time Assault had frantically tore the concrete boulder off her and rushed her to triage the call for melee fighters to withdrawal had been given. Since then, she’d been staring, helpless, as her city was destroyed.

At least they knew from Alexandria, and a few more unfortunates with communicators, that the worst the ball made you feel was motion sickness.

* * *

  
  


“MY BODY IS TIME LOCKED AND STILL I NEED TO VOM-”

David muted Rebecca. 

He still heard her screaming invective from where he was assaulting the monster. 

If they ever managed to ~~find~~ _beat_ Scion and reverse the gradual decline of society and human morality, she’d have a rather lovely career as a death metal screamer.

* * *

Narwhal grimaced from five hundred feet above the ground, then increased it to a thousand when she was still having to dodge errant telephone poles and satellite dishes.

_Christ_ , but skyscrapers were tall. 

Above her a massive shield array glimmered and distorted the noonday sun, shining a strange prismatic glare upon the slapstick nightmare below her.

Pretty much all of Brockton Bay was gone, or rather was still there, albeit moving and spherical. 

It was starting to move onto _fucking landmasses now_ , so Dragon had gotten the go ahead from various sources, like the President and the Prime Minister, and two-thirds of the Triumvirate, to launch an experimental satellite ahead of schedule to try and contain the threat. 

Enough logistical and political maneuvering to make her head spin, and enough technobabble explanations for her to know how to layer her fields later, Narwhal was acting as the magnifying glass for Dragon’s neat little WMD.

  
Some local cape, Othello or something, had given her invulnerability, enough for her to not have to worry about shielding herself beyond a platform to stand on. 

A crackle in her ear that the satellite was charging and to brace, and-

[ _oh holy fuck_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7EXlS9-XpU)

The man (except he couldn’t be a man, he was the size of the _fucking sky_ ) grabbed the ball lazily in one hand and held it out for inspection. 

**Alrighty, Prince! Our wife has baked us a lovely cake, so let’s depart, yes?**

**  
****Ah, We can taste it now💗!**

**So yummy💗!**

**Let’s see your Katamari, yes?**

**We hope you do not mind starting off so big this time.**

**We want to see the biggest Katamari!**

**This is a good start. Make it bigger next time, yes?**

**The thing you collected most of is…**

**My, Earth really is full of things, huh?**

**Alrighty, We will release into the sky.**

  
  


The ~~ball~~ _Katamari_ disappeared into the sky, floating up and up and up. Narwhal craned her neck to track it’s ascent.

Oh. It was night now. 

Training from her military days she’d honestly thought she’d forgotten came back to her.

“Is.. is that Polaris?”

**ROYAL R** **A** **I** **N** **B** **O** **W** **!**

* * *

Emily Piggot sighed in remembrance. 

At least they’d restored Aquarius already.

Triumph was so fucking superstitious.

And, at least, the buildings and people got returned when that fucker made new stars.

A rainbow colored alarm went off through her office, and she grimaced. They _were_ about due for another one, huh?

She reached for her old service pistol, kept in a drawer of her desk next to a bottle of whiskey she’d be downing one meeting with the katamari later.

They might not be able to do anything to the goddamn thing, but at least they could take out their frustrations on it.

* * *

Keith woke up to some kitschy ringtone that he’d selected when it wasn’t three in the goddamn morning. 

“Keith, it’s David. Contessa says she’s got something for how to stop the King from-”

Keith destroyed his phone with a high-power burst of plasma and went back to bed with his husband. 

Thank fuck they were out of real emergencies, at this point Keith wasn’t sure if he’d get out of bed for New York being destroyed anymore even if it wasn’t by the Prince. 

  
  


* * *

“Amy.”

  
“Yes, Vicky?”

“Singing ducks.”

“No, Vicky.”

* * *

  
  


“Oh! I feel it!! I feel the cosmos!!!”  
  


“100% chance Virgo is back, the constellation of love! So pretty!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have prioritized my college work. Failing that, I should have worked on Crawling Rot, that planned out horror story I haven't updated in months. Instead, I made this.
> 
> Don't ask.


End file.
